


changing partners

by daisuga



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Creampie, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Dry Humping, Fingering, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Getting Together, Jealousy, M/M, Possessive Behaviour, Public Sex, Romance, Smut, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, no label relationships, thigh fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:41:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28457730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisuga/pseuds/daisuga
Summary: Usually, the stories end like this: Seungkwan loves Hansol, Hansol loves Seungkwan, and there's nothing left to be said. The End.But there's a lot of nuances that come with loving Hansol.
Relationships: Boo Seungkwan & Kim Mingyu, Boo Seungkwan & Xu Ming Hao | The8, Boo Seungkwan/Chwe Hansol | Vernon, Chwe Hansol | Vernon & Xu Ming Hao | The8, Kim Mingyu & Chwe Hansol | Vernon, Kim Mingyu/Xu Ming Hao | The8
Comments: 17
Kudos: 199





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to my soulmate for proofreading.  
> and uh, sorry! this is super self-indulgent.

The dorm's building is big, but its walls aren't thin. 

Jeonghan can comfortably scream for Seungkwan even if Seungkwan's room is at the far end of the hall and Jeonghan's is at the front - with the same logic, Minghao next door can hear any sound from Mingyu's room, if they're not careful enough.

Minghao. Who is hanging out with Hansol. _Right now_ , in Minghao's room.

Mingyu must be thinking the same, because he snaps his hips suddenly, cock buried to the hilt, and Seungkwan lets out the tiniest cry, clutching at Mingyu's shoulder for dear life. It's slow, languid - borderline painful, like Mingyu is scratching off a name out of Seungkwan.

" _Hao_ ," Mingyu whimpers, deep and quiet, right next to Seungkwan's ears. "You feel _so_ _good_."

Seungkwan's nails dig into Mingyu's skin - soft, flawless, _not Hansol_ \- and he bites at the collarbone just above him, closing his eyes as Mingyu grinds his cock in _deeper_. There's always this pit he has to cross in his mind, whenever he does this with Mingyu; The disconnect of where Mingyu starts and the Hansol in his mind ends. He wants to forget, so he keens and laps at the mark, tongue running up the length of Mingyu's neck.

He loses himself when Mingyu starts grinding in, nudging Seungkwan's prostate in the most dizzying ways, and Seungkwan throws his head back, mouth already open before he could stop the mewl coming out of his mouth.

" _Sollie_ , you're fucking me so well."

Here is the point where Mingyu ceases to be Mingyu, in Seungkwan's overstimulated state, even if Mingyu is everything Hansol isn't. Mingyu is taller, more puppy than human, eyes soft and tender. It's only fair, though, because in this space they make for the two of them, Seungkwan ceases to be Seungkwan, too. 

Seungkwan is everything _Minghao_ isn't. He knows that too well.

His mind ruptures that train of thought as Mingyu pulls both of them up on their knees, motion harsh. He presses Seungkwan against the wall next to the bed, surface cold and unforgiving as his leaking dick gets squeezed between it and his body. Mingyu pulls at Seungkwan's red hair, stark against the white walls. His jaw is set against the crown of his head, lips whispering a litany for Minghao.

Seungkwan bites his lips to silence his own cries for Hansol - _You're not with Hansol,_ his mind weakly says - and Mingyu's fingers tap at it to make him stop. Either the biting or the thoughts, it's unclear, but he stops both anyway - Seungkwan lets go of his lips and takes in the two offered fingers instead.

He bites down, hands helplessly clenching against the wall - Mingyu starts fucking up into Seungkwan, slopes of their body so familiar with each other that it's almost effortless. Seungkwan's mind fogs up, in the best way possible, and his brain short-circuits at Mingyu gripping his ass.

"I'm going to _cum_ , _"_ He whines through the fingers, and Mingyu takes them out with a growl, opting to grip Seungkwan's jaw instead. " _Sollie_ \- I'm going to cum!"

"Then cum."

Mingyu orders, voice strained and even deeper as he tries to keep the volume down, and he doesn't sound like Hansol at all but Seungkwan is fucked out and he latches on the illusion as he grits his teeth and cries out, cum splattering on the wall. Mingyu follows soon after, releasing into the condom as his cock settles deep in Seungkwan, body slumping forward. He completely covers Seungkwan, this way, chin on Seungkwan's shoulder as he whispers a quiet _I love you, Myungho._

They regain their breathing, and Mingyu pulls out of Seungkwan. He takes off the condom with practiced ease, tying it and throwing it away, before collecting Seungkwan into his arms. Seungkwan isn't Minghao, but Seungkwan is _Seungkwan_ , and Seungkwan is Mingyu's favorite - so, he takes care of him.

Mingyu lays both of them down on the bed, deft hand massaging at Seungkwan's thighs and jaw. Jazz music distantly bleeds through the wall, then a familiar low laugh.

Seungkwan just keeps his eyes closed, chest going up and down as he breathes in quicker than normal, even if the adrenaline has surely worn off by now. 

Mingyu knows, because he's doing the same.

-

Usually, the stories end like this: Seungkwan loves Hansol, Hansol loves Seungkwan, and there's nothing left to be said. The End.

But there's a lot of nuances that come with loving Hansol.

Hansol and his push and pull, erratic and elusive. Even then, Seungkwan _knows_ Hansol loves him. Hansol looks at him, both with heat and with softness, only ever reserved for Seungkwan. There will be times - times where Hansol is hyper, _happy_ , and he touches Seungkwan in ways he doesn't always do. A gentle finger sliding across Seungkwan's temple, a quiet contentment in holding hands during a guessing game.

Hansol takes away just as much, though, and Seungkwan adjusts. He shifts and moves and fits himself in whatever space Hansol allows him to take. The cold stares and the annoyed glares from when Seungkwan clings on him too much always stay. 

Stay even as they're replaced by gummy smiles and Hansol's hands on Seungkwan's waist, when his mood shifts again. Stays especially when Seungkwan stops himself from leaning on Hansol's shoulder, or when he retracts his arm when he realizes he is _just_ about to caress Hansol's cheeks.

Hansol _loves_ Seungkwan. It's a given, a fact; But Hansol is still growing, and Seungkwan is usually quick to adapt to reinvention. Somewhere during _Left and Right_ 's promotions, Seungkwan injures himself. Somewhere during _Left and Right_ 's promotions, Hansol decides he wants to be quieter, more aloof and artistic, and he hangs on to Minghao.

Everything Seungkwan isn't. 

_He's still figuring it out_ , Jeonghan said. _Give him time_. Seungkwan will give everything to Hansol, because that's just how he is. He waits, laughing alongside Seokmin whenever they play around, stomach sinking at the feeling of missing someone. He doesn't look - not when Minghao and Vernon post selfies, not when they take pictures whenever they go out, not when they talk about hobbies Seungkwan can't even begin to understand. He doesn't let anyone who doesn't need to know _know_ , because they don't need to.

Seungkwan is good at adapting to reinvention.

-

Minghao is a good hyung, so Seungkwan can't say he hates him.

Maybe what he wants to say is that he hates that he can't be him. Lithe, graceful, smart, artistic. Knows how to live quietly.

"Why do you love Myungho-hyung?"

Mingyu fixes Seungkwan's hair, and Seungkwan pops in a tangerine slice in his mouth. They're now lounging on the third floor's couch: Mingyu's legs are outstretched, and Seungkwan's body is leaning on his side, legs resting on top of the taller man's lap. They're comfortably sitting all the way to the left part of the couch, and on the TV, they're watching a drama only Seungkwan is adamant about.

"I have no reason to answer your question," Mingyu says, haughty as he finishes slicing up an apple. There's a saucer perched on Seungkwan's knees, and Mingyu leans forward to put the knife on the plate on the table, with the discarded tangerine peels.

"You're such a _bitch_."

"That's _your_ job."

"You're a bastard, Kim Mingyu," Seungkwan whines, throwing a small bit of the tangerine skin at Mingyu's face. "It's literally just one question."

His pout disappears as Mingyu gives him an apple slice, head dropping on Mingyu's shoulder. He giggles as he remembers a funny story, and Mingyu tilts his head.

"The other day, Moonbin and I went out to go to a cinema. He wanted to watch a movie."

"What movie?"

"It doesn't matter, because we didn't even end up watching."

"That's such a classic Seungkwan move."

" _Hey_ ," Seungkwan bursts out, affronted. "What do you mean by that?"

Mingyu rolls his eyes, " _Gyu, let's just stay in and you can cook later_ \--"

"Shut up," Seungkwan cuts him off, slipping in a tangerine slice in his mouth. "Shut up, honestly, you're _so_ annoying."

The sound of a door opening and closing floats through the air, and Mingyu stiffens. Seungkwan offers him the last tangerine slice, but freezes when he hears a voice.

"Boo."

Seungkwan lifts his head just to see Hansol at the far end of the couch, looking down at him with something akin to a leer. Hansol keeps looking at him, even after he sits down on the couch, leaning back and legs a bit spread. Mingyu snorts, and Seungkwan glares at him, only to be fed another slice of apple. There's a tiny feeling of accomplishment in Mingyu when Hansol glares at him after.

On behalf of Seungkwan, he feels flattered.

Mingyu lifts off the saucer from Seungkwan's knees, and he can see from the corner of his eyes that Hansol's gaze flickers to the faint carpet burns on them. Seungkwan takes his legs off of his lap, stretching as he faces Hansol with a smile.

"Hansollie, how are you?"

Hansol's gaze softens just a little bit, answering with, "I'm good. You?"

Hansol drapes an arm around the couch, hand palm up, like he's expecting Seungkwan to scoot over and lean against him. Seungkwan knows Hansol, so he does, bouncing as he shuffles next to him, shoulder to Hansol's chest. 

"I'm good, we've just been watching this drama," Seungkwan gestures at the television. "I just started watching this yesterday."

The arm on the couch curls, pulling Seungkwan closer, hand now resting on his shoulder. Seungkwan follows it subconsciously, head fitting into the crook of Hansol's neck. It's comfortable, familiar. It's different from how he does it with Mingyu. Hansol is shorter than Mingyu, but he's also broader, sharper. His arms hold more force in the moments of him holding Seungkwan, like a weighted blanket. Hansol is rough in ways Mingyu isn't, and Seungkwan clings on it.

Hansol hums, before his fingers tap at the faded marks on Seungkwan's left knee. "What happened?"

He doesn't sound particularly concerned, is the thing. Seungkwan feels flustered, trying to keep his reaction in, which is so much harder to do when Mingyu lets out a short laugh. Hansol turns to Mingyu with an eyebrow lifted up, and Mingyu shakes his head and motions at the television.

 _He probably knows_ , Seungkwan thinks, but it's not like he can admit that it's from Mingyu face-fucking him, with Seungkwan kneeling on the carpeted floor of an empty recording booth.

Or maybe he can, and maybe he won't, just because he's afraid of Hansol not caring. Afraid of just getting a shrug, a ' _Whatever, stay safe though.'_ Mingyu's reaction buys Seungkwan some time, anyway, and he fidgets with the hem of his shorts as he comes up with a lie.

"I scraped it, at the practice room during a lesson. With, uh, Channie."

"Yeah, at the practice room," Mingyu drawls, tone amused. "Must've been painful."

"I hate you."

Seungkwan pouts, sticking his tongue out at Mingyu, which Mingyu returns with a mocking, scrunched up face. He sniffs and winds his arms around Hansol's waist, cuddling into him; His heart feels weak when Hansol's hand moved from his shoulder to his forearm, rubbing soothingly on it. Hansol doesn't respond; he just looks at the television with a blank expression, and Seungkwan is too exhausted to really _think_ about what this reaction could possibly mean.

Minghao then appears with a tray containing two teacups and the porcelain kettle he values more than anything else. He doesn't even glance at Seungkwan and Hansol, just going straight to shimmying himself a space between Mingyu and Seungkwan.

He pours the tea into the cups, taking the saucer from Mingyu and replacing it with the cup.

"Be careful, it's hot."

Minghao speaks softly, like he's putting a wall between the rest of them and him and Mingyu. He probably is, and no one knows why, so Seungkwan just snuggles into Hansol. It's comforting, being this close to him again, because they haven't been spending as much time as they used to. He tries not to think about that, either. Seungkwan is avoiding a lot of things, and he knows they will all bite him back later, when he stays up late just because he is a goddamn neurotic mess.

No one asks why there are only two cups, and Hansol is more preoccupied with stroking Seungkwan's knee with his thumb. Minghao's presence briefly causes a twinge somewhere in Seungkwan, and it reminds him of how different he is; His hyung never puts himself out in a situation where he embarrasses himself, never bites off more than he can chew.

Seungkwan is Seungkwan, and he can never bend himself that way. It scares him, briefly, the thought of Hansol leaving him behind.

The nudge from Hansol snaps him out of his reverie.

"Hey, what's on your mind?"

He looks up to match Hansol's stare, his eyes _still_ so pretty even if the dorm's lighting is the weirdest yellow it can possibly be. His heart flutters and his skin feels tingly with _this_ Hansol: the Hansol who looks at Seungkwan without the need to mask his emotions, the need to be cool and detached. He can feel that there are so many feelings, with this Hansol: the love, the care, the worry. 

What's holding him back, really?

"Nothing, I just missed you."

Hansol stiffens, and Seungkwan briefly panics: _Did he say something wrong? Was it too clingy? Is Hansol going to push him away?_ He unconsciously grips at Hansol's shirt, breaking eye contact and squeezing his eyes shut, head settling to his previous position. He relaxes when all Hansol does is to pull him closer.

"I missed you too."

-

Seungkwan is agitated.

Mingyu has known him since they were just boys in the green room, clingy and uncaring of the world, nothing but their dreams and ambitions in their hearts. Mingyu is not _in love_ with Seungkwan, not in the way he loves Minghao.

But he loves Seungkwan - knows the meaning of every goosebump and awkward laugh, knows exactly at what point the lilt in his voice becomes something to be alarmed of. He doesn't know him as well as Hansol does, but that's because Seungkwan isn't _in love_ with Mingyu. It's exactly why they're in this situation in the first place.

He's sitting on Seungkwan's bed, his back against the headboard. He likes Seungkwan's room. It's nice. Clean. Simple. He breathes in and Seungkwan smells like Jeju oranges; he should know, because sometimes, he ends up smelling the same way.

"I shouldn't be bothered. Should I be bothered? Did I overreact?"

Seungkwan leans back on Mingyu's chest, melting, caged in the most perfect way. Mingyu peers over and sees Seungkwan just clicking away on his phone, typing and erasing as he tries to compose a message to Hansol.

"You probably did."

"You're supposed to take my side, hyung."

"No, I'm supposed to calm you down."

Seungkwan sighs, loud and frustrated. He closes his phone and throws his head back on Mingyu's shoulder. Mingyu opts to fish out his own phone, making a face at Minghao sending a photo message.

A photo of him and Hansol at god knows where, with tea leaves on the table.

 _You'd like it here_ , Minghao added, a few seconds after. He looks - good. Mingyu tries not to reply with a _'Then why didn't you ask me, instead?'_ because Minghao doesn't owe him anything, and because Boo Seungkwan is already doing the whining hard enough for both of them.

"I hate him," Seungkwan mutters, "I asked him if we could get coffee to catch up and he said he's _busy_. Only for me to see _this_?"

Both of their phones get the Instagram notification. Mingyu accepts that Seungkwan is the brave one between the both of them, really, because Mingyu closes his phone while Seungkwan clicks on the post.

It's the same photo Minghao has sent to Mingyu. Vernon is doing a pose that covers most of his face, and the caption is something about Hansol as the cutest member. He can't be too sure, because his eyes scan along the written words and decide never to look at it again. He tears his gaze away and his hands move by themselves, snaking underneath Seungkwan's shirt.

The soft skin grounds him, and he closes his eyes as he listens to Seungkwan venting out, holding him tight to stop him from shaking out of sheer emotion.

" _Busy,_ " Seungkwan croaks out, "Wow, looks busy to me."

He kisses along the line of Seungkwan's neck, trying hard not to add more fuel into the fire. This is how they cope: Seungkwan is the strong, raging fire, and Mingyu is the blanket that calms both of them down. Seungkwan shakily types out, _I'm just a bit upset_. He presses send, and Mingyu decides to take the phone away after.

Seungkwan doesn't protest, because there's nothing else he can do. It's already embarrassing - the day before, he impulsively made a comment with such a _cryptic_ emoji on Hansol's posted selca, too.

"This is why they took away your instagram," Mingyu says. Changing topics seems. Smart. "Calm down, Boo."

The nickname sounds wrong, rolling off his mouth in the worst way. It's not his, and it's not like he wants it to _ever_ be his, but it's what Seungkwan needs. They give and take, him and Seungkwan, because this is how they make it all feel less empty.

Seungkwan whines at the nickname, and starts relaxing. Against his better judgement, Mingyu sucks on the skin underneath Seungkwan's ear, just shy of his moles. And then another one, a bit further down the neck, because Seungkwan doesn't stop him, and he's trying to chase away his own irritation.

"They'll see."

"You can just cover it up."

Seungkwan turns into a doll, like this. Mingyu knows it's him disassociating, and he doesn't have a problem with that; Mingyu has always been the one who could deal with things better, even if Seungkwan is a fixer. So Mingyu will be the one to acknowledge how _sad_ it is that they do _this_ , and Seungkwan will be the one to fix that when they turn hazy, taking care of Mingyu.

He helps Seungkwan turn around, now facing him. Their phones vibrate on the nightstand, but this time they don't pay attention to it. Out of spite. Out of anger. Or maybe just out of sadness; They deserve to have this space, Mingyu thinks, where Seungkwan and him just lick their wounds.

Seungkwan looks up at him, pretty arms around Mingyu's shoulders, and Mingyu feels a deep, sinking feeling. _He's not Minghao_. But Seungkwan is _pretty_ , and Seungkwan is here, and Seungkwan pouts up at him, so Mingyu erases his mind and leans down to kiss him. His lips are tender, full, and Mingyu slips in his tongue, giddy when Seungkwan kisses and nips and sucks just as much. There's a certain feeling, whenever they do this, that will never be equated with love but can be a perfect replica of it.

They pull back just a bit and Mingyu pulls off Seungkwan's shirt, hands sliding up to caress the slope; Soft, flushed. Personally, Mingyu doesn't know what the _fuck_ Hansol is _doing_ , beating around the bush, not making Seungkwan fully his. _This_ Seungkwan, beautiful and obedient and just an inch away from perfection. Mingyu plants loud, open-mouthed kisses on Seungkwan's shoulder, marking him for good measure, moving up the slope of where the shoulder connects with his neck.

"Gyu, you're marking me too much," Seungkwan whines, but it doesn't have the sincerity required to make Mingyu stop. Mingyu bites a particularly nasty hickey at the base of his neck, and Seungkwan can't stop the moan that comes out, instinctively grinding down. "You _idiot_."

"Boo," Mingyu calls him, still foreign and stilted, but Seungkwan's breath hitches anyway, and Mingyu smiles. "Your floor doesn't care, yeah? I can fuck you and you can be loud without them batting an eye?"

Eighth floor is their sanctuary, in a way. Jihoon spends more time in the studio than his own room. Soonyoung and the occasional Seokmin never snitches, not when it's _this_. Jeonghan is - Jeonghan, he supposes. Jeonghan makes him coffee whenever he exits Seungkwan's room at ungodly hours in an obviously fucked out state. Jeonghan helps Seungkwan cover up Mingyu's marks, and scolds both of them about it. Jeonghan teases them, but never too far, never too judgemental. Jeonghan casually chats with them, honest and frank and caring.

"Be careful," Seungkwan says anyway, his tone now a warning. "Jeonghan-hyung is going to _scowl_ at me."

"I heard you owe him a whole bottle of concealer."

"And whose fault is that, hm?"

"Mine," Mingyu grins against the skin. "Your _Hansollie_."

It's fucked up. 

It's fucked up, really, because there's no other way to describe it but sad, but when Mingyu has Seungkwan on all fours, ass in the air, it becomes less sad because they cease to be who they are. The desperation to feel _anything_ wipes the patheticness of it clean, and he can't be bothered to feel it again when his eyes are closed tight, hands gripping on Seungkwan's hips, both of them groaning a name that is not theirs.

It's not for the lack of trying. They tried to date, but called it off after a day, because Mingyu loves Minghao and Seungkwan will probably willingly die for Hansol, and only for Hansol. This is the best they could do; a coping mechanism born from loneliness and lack of reassurance. Mingyu can't remember how it started, but he can remember Seungkwan's body, and that's all he needs, right now.

"You're doing so good," Mingyu coos, body hovering over Seungkwan's shaky form, hips bouncing off Seungkwan's ass in fast, short thrusts. "So, so good."

"Sollie -- _Please_ \--"

Seungkwan doesn't hold back when they're in his room. He feels safer, willing to let himself fall deeper into the illusion that they make when their bodies meet; Mingyu becomes a distant form, and the slaps and scratches turn into Hansol's. He accepts it, crying out in ways that will make his voice hoarse, and even that becomes Minghao's, for Mingyu.

"I'm going to cum," Mingyu grunts out, his eyes hazy; the clenching around him becomes too much, and he bites on Seungkwan's shoulder. "Tell me where you want me to cum."

"Inside," Seungkwan manages to whimper, hands holding onto the headboard for purchase. " _Please_."

"So polite."

Mingyu follows Seungkwan's request, because it's something they both needed. Even through the barrier of a condom - the last bit of boundary Seungkwan insists - the push offered by the sensation is the final nail in the coffin. His hands quickly slithers around to jerk Seungkwan off, and he lets out a whine when Seungkwan clenches around his spent member as he releases.

They collapse like that, a panting mess of sweat and cum, bodies warm and flushed. Mingyu pulls out and rolls over, eyes on the white ceiling, and Seungkwan - he stays, face down, taking a while to come back to his senses.

He cleans up a bit and opens his phone, against his better judgement. Notifications fill his screen; A lot is on it, most of it Minghao. He opens the Instagram notification, this time, feeling a little braver.

 _It's Vernon who wrote the caption_ , Minghao replies to Seungkwan's comment. Mingyu can read Minghao easier than anyone else, and he lets out an odd, unexpected laugh. The reply feels a lot like Minghao trying to pass off Seungkwan's disappointment to Hansol, trying not to be caught in a crossfire.

The KKT messages from Minghao are interesting. He opens it to find three other pictures; One is another selca of him and Hansol, now on the way home. Minghao writes, _It's like he's my apprentice, he's trying so hard to be cool._ Then another picture, this time of Hansol intently staring at his phone. The caption: _He's been trying to type to Kwannie._

The third one is a landscape. The sunset for today is more pink than purple, and the leaves frame the sky perfectly. It's shot from the bottom, looking up, and for a second, Mingyu can imagine what Minghao looked like when he took the picture: Scarf hanging off of his neck, phone pointed up, slender fingers taking the picture. An accomplished smile on his face.

The following message said, _Wish you were here._

Mingyu sighs and closes his phone, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Next to him, Seungkwan groans, and Mingyu laughs, extending a hand, caressing the smooth skin, moving along the slope of Seungkwan's spine.

"Clean me up, please."

It's quiet, small. Seungkwan is starting to feel the weight of it, again. The silent feeling of shame. Mingyu becomes gentle, holding Seungkwan like he's fragile, because Mingyu shares the weight of it all.

"Alright."

-

"You should send that message already, Vernonie."

Hansol startles as Minghao suddenly speaks, blinking out of his stupor and looking away from his phone. Minghao isn't even looking at him; He's just sipping his tea and looking at the scenery outside.

The tea shop is nice. Clean. Simple. But it also doesn't have Seungkwan in it, and he probably could have achieved the same feeling if he just hung out in Seungkwan's room. Seungkwan's bed is always _so_ comfortable, and the smell of oranges is always a relaxing scent. The thought of Seungkwan's room reboots his brain, and he's back to the matter at hand, which is --

"You're so _loud_."

"I'm not saying anything," Hansol retorts, just a bit defensive. Minghao actually sighs.

"Your _thinking_ is so loud. Just send the message to Seungkwannie."

Hansol flushes, embarrassed at being caught. There's no use in lying to Minghao. "You can tell?"

Minghao doesn't even respond, and he just busies himself with making the tea on their table. Hansol looks back on his phone, the pouty ompangi sticker last sent by Seungkwan taunting him.

Maybe he should've just stayed behind instead of going with Minghao. He likes spending time with Minghao, because the older feels a lot like a mentor. Someone who is calm and kind, like a free soul; a vibe Hansol gravitates to. He finds himself relaxing and relating a lot, being able to just quietly spend time around someone and not be expected of anything.

With Seungkwan, it's different. Jeonghan _did_ confront Hansol, asking if there's a problem. _You've been avoiding him lately_ , Jeonghan said, and Hansol just said that he is. He's trying out new stuff. His whole youth, he spent time around Seungkwan, having silly inside jokes and flirting around with each other. The mutual love _is_ there, but as they grow older, Hansol feels himself changing.

He doesn't like some parts of him, whenever he's around Seungkwan. Doesn't like that his self-control isn't as strong, and how he sometimes wishes he could just take Seungkwan away and never share him with anyone else. It's a tiny part of him - insignificant, in the grand scheme of things, but he doesn't like how he feels sick about the thought of sharing Seungkwan in any form.

Doesn't like the itching feeling of annoyance whenever Mingyu is close to Seungkwan. The way Mingyu fixes his hair, his clothes - hands _too_ familiar, arms tightly embracing Seungkwan's waist. There's an irrational anger in Hansol, there, and he needs the calm, and Minghao _is_ the personification of calm. So he hangs out with Minghao, scared of what he'll _do_ to Seungkwan if they're left alone in a room for even just a minute.

"Send it, Vernon."

Minghao finally rolls his eyes, and Hansol sighs. 

He thinks about what to say. He types, _I'm sorry._ He sends it, because that seems to be a good starter. The message isn't _seen_ yet, so he types again. _I'll make it up to you_ , his fingers tap, and he sends it before he can dwell on it. Make it up, how? Coffee? Hanging out? His brain wants to ask Seungkwan for a date, but somehow that's harder to do, lately, because. _Because._

He types in, _I'll drop by tomorrow_. He sends it, and he pockets his phone.

 _Tomorrow_. He'll think of what to do, even if all of that has something to do with fucking Seungkwan, simply because the way Mingyu laughed about Seungkwan's knees peeved him. Hansol tenses up at the memory, only relaxing when Minghao kicks his foot under the table.

"You're ruining my aura," Minghao declares, "You really need to learn how to relax about Kwannie."

Hansol sulks, because there's nothing he can retort to _that_.

-

"You look like a car crash victim. What am I going to do with you, Kwannie?"

As expected, Jeonghan nags, a playful scowl on his face. Seungkwan knows better than to stop him mid-spiel, so he tilts his head to let Jeonghan apply the concealer on the nasty bruise Mingyu bit on his neck.

It's noon, and Mingyu is still surprisingly asleep on his bed. Seungkwan didn't want to wake him up, because he cleaned both of them _and_ the room the night before. Mingyu deserves some peace.

What he did, instead, was to take a quick shower, frown at the marks Mingyu made, and steel himself for the absolute scolding Jeonghan will give.

They're both in the bathroom now, Jeonghan with his concealer, hunching over Seungkwan. He has Mingyu's brown cardigan on, oversized on his frame, comfortable. He closes his eyes and lets Jeonghan fuss over the love bites. The door is opened just an inch, in case Mingyu comes looking for Seungkwan.

"We need to buy you a lifetime supply of concealers, you know. You're so lucky they let you do your own make-up in Going Seventeen, imagine if they had to go through _this_."

"Sorry, hyung," Seungkwan cutely says, giggling when Jeonghan fondly rolls his eyes. "It's Mingyu-hyung's fault!"

"Oh, don't worry. I'll be scolding him too."

" _Hi_!"

They both pause, Jeonghan's hand still hovering over an uncovered hickey. They look over to the door as Seokmin opens it, a bright grin and energetic voice greeting them.

"We came to play!"

" _We?"_ Seungkwan asks, just as Jeonghan peeks and Seokmin's expression goes through the five stages of - something like _panic_. Seungkwan laughs at the dumb expressions Seokmin's face goes through, but his breath hitches when he hears a familiar voice outside, just behind Seokmin.

"Did you find them, hyung?" Hansol asks, trying to peek past the tiny sliver of the door that Seokmin instinctively yanked to close a bit, obscuring Jeonghan and Seungkwan. 

"Why, what's happening? Boo?"

Seungkwan panics, Seokmin tries to stop Hansol from opening the door, And Jeonghan moves to completely block Seungkwan from their field of vision. Jeonghan is more snake than human, because he is completely calm and nonchalant when he laughs.

"We're about to be done, I'm just helping Kwannie with his lip tint."

Jeonghan shoos them, and Seokmin goes _ah, okay!_ like it makes sense, closing the door.

It doesn't make sense, but Hansol isn't in the mood for Jeonghan's gatekeeping, so he calls out, "I'll just wait in your room, Boo."

Something like a clatter resounds from the bathroom, and Seungkwan yelling out his name stops Hansol in his tracks.

The door opens, and it's only the upper half of Seungkwan's face showing, his red hair a curly mess. Hansol can't stop the chuckle that escapes his mouth, and Seungkwan's eyes turn into tiny crescents.

"You don't need to hide like that from me," Hansol says, hand fixing Seungkwan's hair. Seokmin turns around, going for the living room.

"Um, I just don't feel confident today, you know?" Seungkwan mumbles the lie.

He is about to say more when Hansol freezes, and Seungkwan does too, because. _Because_.

A completely bleary and drowsy Kim Mingyu steps out of Seungkwan's room, yawning. His hair is all over the place, and _sure_ , he has a white shirt on - _sure_ , his visual doesn't scream _I had sex_ because Seungkwan never marks Kim Mingyu, but still.

 _Still_.

Hansol knows. He _knows_ , he just doesn't want to acknowledge it, because that means he will snap and. He doesn't want to, really.

He stares at Mingyu, who just realizes that Hansol is in the hallway. Stares at Mingyu who gives him a _sly_ _grin_ , eyes hooded like he stole something from Hansol, as he says, "Good morning, _Vernonie_."

It's sickening, the faux sweet tone Mingyu uses, and Hansol clenches his fist and looks at Seungkwan. In Seungkwan's efforts to see what's happening, the door opened just a _tiny_ bit, but it's _enough_. Hansol pushes the door open, ignoring Seungkwan's yelp, and sees Seungkwan wholly: Mingyu's cardigan draped over his body, neck and chest littered with still yet to be covered love bites. The cardigan shifts as Seungkwan raises his hands to shyly cover his neck, and underneath his shorts, Hansol can see that there are some on his thighs, too.

Hansol has always thought that the phrase "seeing red" is weird, but it's the only thing he can use to describe what he's feeling right now. He blanks out, feeling like he's not in control of his body. He doesn't feel betrayed, per se, because they're not together. It's his fault, and Hansol can take that. It's easy to reconcile with that information.

What's hard to digest is the searing anger screaming in his stomach, and the odd desire of wanting to have Seungkwan be _undone_ ; The instinct to just pull Seungkwan out of the bathroom, into the elevator, all the way to his room. His hands itch to reach over and grip Seungkwan's wrists - his mouth already feeling the soft skin and the tremble Seungkwan tends to have, whenever Hansol holds him.

Mingyu walks past him like it's nothing, only waving a sweet, " _Morning, Kwannie_ ," before joining Seokmin. They don't pay attention to him - Hansol's glare is daring, as if challenging Seungkwan to look away in favor of paying attention to someone else. Seungkwan doesn't, keeping Hansol's stare, eyes wide - Hansol can clearly see that Seungkwan is in a bit of a panic, trying to make himself seem smaller. It calms him, just a little bit, to see Seungkwan like that.

Jeonghan is the one to break the tension, as always. Flawless and effortless, because he fears no one. He laughs and pulls Seungkwan back, holding the door. "Sorry, Vernonie, but I still have to get him all prettied up."

Hansol smiles, and it's sharp and cold. He doesn't look at Jeonghan - He stares straight at Seungkwan.

"I'll wait for you in the living room, _Kwannie_."


	2. II

Hansol considers his options.

When Seungkwan finally emerged from the bathroom, he tried to pull him away, but Seokmim and Jeonghan were quick to whine about it.

" _Eh_ ," Jeonghan whines in the tone that screams _don't be a killjoy._ "Let's play a bit first."

"Yeah, we went here because you wanted to play, Vernonie."

Seokmin _snitched_ on him, so he scoffed and pulled Seungkwan close to him, buried at the far end of the sofa.

That's where he is now. He doesn't say anything; No one forces him to, and he keeps Seungkwan on his lap, chin resting on his shoulder. He ignores the slow trickle of members gathering on the eighth floor. Seungkwan chats and laughs with them, albeit a little awkwardly, but Hansol just _looks_.

"Channie, the other day, Hoshi-hyung told me what you did."

"Did what? Where?"

"The practice room."

" _Hey_ , that's not my fault."

"It is."

"It totally is, right."

"Mingyu, cook us food."

"No."

"Where's my charger?"

"Let's have a soju and karaoke party!"

The good thing with having even just six out of thirteen members present is that the conversations carry themselves. Hansol surveys the state of the floor: him, Seungkwan, Mingyu, and Jeonghan on the couch, Seokmin and Dino on the floor.

Seungkwan is comfortably sitting on Hansol's lap, knees framing Seungkwan's thighs. His arms are firmly wound up around the curved waist; he is _still_ trying to ignore Mingyu's lingering scent on Seungkwan, thanks to the cardigan he is wearing.

"I'll text in the group chat," Dino says, already typing on his phone. "Let's play a game first while we wait?"

They all agree, and Mingyu disappears for a shower. Jeonghan snickers at Hansol's sharp eyes, following the taller man's figure as he slips back to the hallway, into Seungkwan's room.

"Does Mingyu-hyung have his clothes in your room?"

His question is quiet, murmured directly into Seungkwan's ear. Seungkwan stiffens, just a little bit, the shiver on his spine unavoidable when Hansol is _this close_.

"Yeah," he answers weakly.

The anger has transformed into something else, at this point. Something terrifyingly calm and calculated in Hansol's mind. He has a grip on his emotions, but at the same time, he doesn't; he tightens his hold around Seungkwan's waist, and kisses his nape when he doesn't say anything, just opting to melt into the hold.

The submission relaxes Hansol, and Seungkwan swings his legs playfully. Hansol busies himself with small talk as everyone else plans what to do.

"You still upset about yesterday?"

"No, I'm sorry I was weird."

"You weren't being weird. Let's go out together next time, my treat."

"We don't have to," Seungkwan says, a grin on his face. Hansol is weak - so _weak_ , to this look. "I just want to spend time with you. We don't have to go out."

"So needy," He mutters, snickering as Seungkwan scoffs and pouts at him.

Joshua comes, just as Seokmin pulls out the Scrabble board. Hansol and Seungkwan share one rack; Hansol isn't really interested in playing but Seungkwan is. Joshua and Jeonghan share one, too, and Seokmin complains about the disadvantages, with Chan cackling right next to him.

Hansol helps Seungkwan rearrange the letters, both of them giggling at the weird combinations and random draws. Seokmin starts being antagonistic towards Joshua when Joshua tells him that _Mintiest_ isn't a word. No one says anything when Jeonghan sneaks a hand into the pouch and exchanges a letter tile secretly.

Hansol thinks of what to do after this gathering. They will most likely stay until the karaoke; personally he wants nothing else but to see Seungkwan on his bed, vulnerable and _his_. His irritation is now a steady hum tingling along his fingertips, and he tries to reconcile with the fact that this is how he'll always be, about Seungkwan: Bursting at the seams, ready to give everything, ditching the self-control he is _so_ proud of. 

Jeonghan and Joshua win the first round, and Seungkwan whines, even if he isn't really feeling necessarily competitive today. Mingyu comes back just as the second one starts, Seungcheol and Soonyoung appearing with bottles of soju.

Mingyu sits on the couch, next to Seungkwan and Hansol. He smells exactly like the orange-scented shampoo Seungkwan uses, and the anger suddenly hits back, tenfold. Mingyu leans over to look at the rack Seungkwan is holding, laughing lowly and arranging them into a word.

"Look, Kwannie."

Seungkwan looks and laughs out loud, his hands almost dropping the rack. Mingyu covers his mouth in an attempt to not laugh too hard, and Hansol blanks out, again, at the closeness they have, _right in front of him_.

Hansol impulsively nuzzles Seungkwan's shoulder, one hand moving back to tug at the cardigan. The clothing shifts, and his lips meet with Seungkwan's skin, right behind his shoulder, just below the dip. Before he can _really_ think about it, he softly bites into the flesh, suppressing the moan that comes with it. Seungkwan's hand slaps down on Hansol's knee, nails digging into it as he gasps in shock.

It's - well. Something shifts, within Hansol, and he finds that he really, _really_ wants to get out of there, with Seungkwan.

No one notices - or they pretend not to. Hansol doesn't really care, because he just busies himself with licking at the bite and fixing up Seungkwan's cardigan, as if nothing happened. Seungkwan whines, shifting on his lap, and Hansol steadies him with both hands on his hips.

 _We'll talk later_ , the grip says, and Seungkwan passes off the rack to Mingyu, suddenly not interested in the game.

Time passes by like a blur, because Hansol suddenly becomes interested in grinding Seungkwan down on him. Seungkwan doesn't stop him - just holds Hansol's knees with both hands, focusing on not letting a single sound out as Hansol slowly ruts into him, in slow and subtle movements.

Mingyu has the decency to look away, now succumbing to his natural role of fixing the food and drinks as they prepare for the soju and karaoke party. Soonyoung partners up with Seokmin in the last leg of the _very_ tense Scrabble game, and it draws everyone's attention to them. Jeonghan attempts to look over their rack and Soonyoung comically blocks it with his body, everyone laughing and taking a video of the scene.

Hansol snakes a hand in Seungkwan's cardigan, palm touching Seungkwan's skin, feeling the warm flesh as he gently pushes him back. He complies easily, now fully reclining on Hansol's chest. The hand moves down - lower than ever, and his fingers tease along the hem of the shorts, before splaying over Seungkwan's thighs.

" _Hansollie,"_ Seungkwan whispers, and Hansol relaxes, his erection pressing up against Seungkwan's ass. 

He doesn't answer, but he also doesn't move. He keeps them like that, and Seungkwan stays, even after they start up the karaoke.

Seokmin passes the mic to Seungkwan as they queue a song - _Romantic Cat_ plays, and Soonyoung, Seokmin, and Seungcheol start jumping around. Mingyu passes a strawberry soju to - probably to Seungkwan, but Hansol takes it instead and makes a point of looking at Mingyu in the eye as he drinks from the bottle.

Mingyu just snorts, going back to the kitchen.

Everyone yells out the _sweet little kitty_ intro of the song, but Hansol leans forward, whispering it into Seungkwan's ear, voice deeper than how he usually would speak. Seungkwan looks at him with a petulant pout, like he's about to scold him, and Hansol just laughs and massages his thighs.

Seungkwan gets excited in singing the song, the way he always does. Hansol just leans back and rubs his thighs, smiling at how Seungkwan looks whenever he's singing - the wide grin and the sparkling eyes, _everything_ Hansol loves about him. He quietly drinks his soju bottle, indulging Seungkwan now and then by singing or rapping parts of the song whenever Seungkwan points the mic at him. 

Seungkwan shifts and bounces on him, and Hansol tries to hold on to the last bit of self-control he has; Seungkwan _genuinely_ looks like he's having fun, and the soju is good, so Hansol really wants to give this moment to him.

When the mic is finally passed, he cuddles up the whiny Seungkwan, who is complaining about his throat; Hansol just gives him a bottle, aware now of how much everyone else drank. Joshua starts being giggly, leaning on the couch as Jeonghan pisses off Chan by swapping the soju bottles Chan is drinking. Mingyu is quietly typing on his phone, just leaning on the back of the couch. The karaoke hype turns into a drunken mess of laughters and conversations, and someone suggests a game of charades. 

Hansol wipes at Seungkwan's lips with two fingers, wet with soju, and holds his breath as Seungkwan momentarily opens his mouth for the fingers to slip in. Someone closes the karaoke and starts a playlist, The Weeknd's _Die For You_ playing first thing.

His fingers slip out Seungkwan's mouth as Seungkwan drinks another bottle, and Hansol chuckles at the coincidence of it all.

"Whose playlist is this?"

"Mine," Mingyu says, sticking a tongue out as Hansol squints at him.

Seungkwan is getting needier, just a tad bit neurotic now. The rest of the members divide themselves up into two groups, and Hansol shakes his head when Jeonghan asks if they're joining. Seungkwan is completely perched on Hansol now, legs drawn up and face nuzzling his neck. It's nothing new, this intimacy, but something about it right now makes Hansol impatient and needy himself.

"They're glued together," Chan says, and Soonyoung slaps Chan's hand that's pointing at them. 

"Don't point, that's rude."

"Shut up," Chan retorts, and Seungcheol laughs as he pulls Chan away. The youngest is beyond tipsy - Chan has always had the lowest alcohol tolerance - and he keeps them at bay. 

"It's just us, then," Jeonghan slurs, quickly doing a headcount. "Me, Mingyu, Shua."

Seungcheol pouts. "I have _two_ drunks on my team."

He gestures at Seokmin and Chan now giggling on the floor, slapping at the snacks.

"Two drunks is equivalent to one Shua," Jeonghan shrugs, smug, and Joshua just rolls his eyes and drinks his glass.

They leave it at that, and everyone gets progressively more drunk as the game goes; Somehow, in the middle of it, the rules change into taking shots when you miss a word, and Soonyoung victoriously takes out a whisky bottle. By the end, they just continuously take the shots anyway, even if they don't miss a word.

Someone - _Joshua?_ \- gives Hansol a shot glass, filled to the brim with no chaser, and Seungkwan crinkles his nose as Hansol downs it in one go. Seungkwan has never been a fan of alcohol, and a rush in Hansol's brain and the fact that everyone is preoccupied makes him dip his head down, kissing Seungkwan. He slips his tongue in, encouraged by the way Seungkwan clutches on his shirt, and he feels momentarily dizzy and out of it as Seungkwan kisses back and returns the favor.

They separate, panting softly, and Hansol stares as Seungkwan looks up at him, pupils dilated and a blush adorning his face.

"You're drunk."

"No," Hansol flatly answers, leaning down to give one more kiss to Seungkwan, for good measure.

A loud chorus of laughters separate them, and they watch as Jeonghan holds up two shot glass to Seungcheol. The leader downs both of them easily, and Mingyu picks the next word.

Mingyu's eyes dart to Seungkwan's flushed face. He smirks before facing his team, hands doing a motion, as if he's cranking an old camera.

"Movie movie movie," Joshua flails around, excitedly giggling as Mingyu nods.

He then makes three taps on his arm. 

"Three words."

Then he starts gesturing between him and Seungkwan.

Seungkwan frowns and tilts his head, trying to understand what he means - Hansol, on the other hand, feels a drop in his stomach. He has a feeling on what this is about. His hands start feeling cold, and he takes another shot glass that's offered by a drunk Soonyoung, who is busy manning the bottle.

"What? Soulmates?" Jeonghan laugh-snorts, and Joshua pushes at him. " _Lovers in Paris_? _My Best Friend's Wedding_? Wait, that's four words."

Seungcheol is just laughing, not even comprehending what is happening, and Chan is just out cold on the floor. Seokmin is shaking his head while Soonyoung - Soonyoung isn't even listening, pouring himself a drink and scrolling on his phone.

Seungkwan stands up, like he's sensing that something's about to happen. Hansol stands up, too, because. Kim Mingyu has the most _shit-eating_ grin on his face.

Listen: Hansol is usually a calm man. He doesn't like violence, and he enjoys the mediation things Minghao has taught him, even if he apparently doesn't do it well. His mind melts, though, when he sees the culmination of Mingyu's plans.

Mingyu gestures at himself, then to Seungkwan. He's looking straight at Hansol when one of his hands form into the gesture of a number three, while the other hand forms the gesture of a number one.

He doesn't even need to finish the lewd motion; Joshua confusedly looks at Mingyu and Jeonghan _bursts_ out into a goddamn laugh, spilling his drink as he throws his whole damn body to the back of his couch, head tilted up.

"Oh my _god_ ," Jeonghan wheezes out, "Kim Mingyu, you are an _asshole._ "

Hansol snaps out of his trance when Seungkwan realizes what Mingyu is doing, yelling out a loud " _Hey, Kim fucking Mingyu!_ "

Hansol, in layman's terms, just snaps. He roughly pulls Seungkwan with him, crossing over and shoving Mingyu back with his shoulder as he walks to the door. He doesn't care what their reactions are, and he doesn't even _look_ at Seungkwan's shocked and panicked face.

"We're leaving," Hansol announces, all the bite and bark in the world dripping down his voice.

He glares at Mingyu's smug face, before slamming the door shut.

-

Hansol lets go of Seungkwan when they enter the elevator, jaw clenching tight and arms crossing over his chest.

No one presses the button for the first floor, where Hansol's room is in, and they stay in the elevator, air tense. Seungkwan is the first one to give - he always is, because he can't handle Hansol being angry at him. He pouts and tugs at Hansol's jacket, body pressing up to his side.

"Hansollie," he starts, voice sweet and whiny. "Hansollie, I'm sorry."

"For what?"

Hansol's question makes Seungkwan flush, because yeah, _for what?_ He feels the embarrassment flood in, but there's a stronger need in him to appease this upset Hansol, so he tugs harder and tilts his head, a pout on his lips.

Hansol stares at him, eyes leveled, arms unfurling so he could reach over and cup Seungkwan's face. His thumb strokes the bottom lip that's jutting out into a pout, and he chuckles.

"How sorry are you?" He asks, hand slowly moving to behind Seungkwan's head, hair soft as he curls his fist gently. "Hm, Boo?"

Seungkwan whines, body hot and chest thudding loudly. He's _not_ drunk, but he _feels_ drunk; The taste of the alcohol that came from kissing Hansol earlier is still on his lips, and he feels a little wild over everything that's happening.

"Very sorry," Seungkwan breathes out, " _Very_ sorry, _Sollie_."

The elevator is still, no lights blinking, and Seungkwan makes up his mind; He kneels, face so incredibly near the erection in Hansol's sweatpants, looking up with something that feels like desperation.

"That's a good look on you," Hansol croaks out, hand still gently clutching Seungkwan's hair.

He gives a small push on Seungkwan's head, cheeks rubbing on his clothed hard-on, and Seungkwan _whines_ like he's been waiting for it. He takes it as a permission, both hands now cupping Seungkwan's face, breath hitching as he dry humps it.

The friction burns, but Seungkwan doesn't mind, mewling at the feeling of his face against Hansol. There's a feeling of accomplishment swelling deep in him as he sees Hansol's eyes glinting, mouth parting as he breathes quicker than usual. Seungkwan's hands are clutching on his thighs, tugging at the sweatpants in a silent need. The need becomes more urgent, apparently, because Seungkwan's fingers moved up to tug at the waistband of both his pants and boxers.

"You want it that much?"

" _Yes_ ," Seungkwan impatiently cries out, a brat even if he's on his knees in an _elevator_ , face rubbing against Hansol's crotch.

"Always so greedy," Hansol grunts out, but he helps Seungkwan pull his waistband down anyway. "Is this how much Mingyu-hyung spoiled you?"

Hansol riles himself up at the mention of Mingyu, hand flying out to pull at Seungkwan's hair in an attempt to ground himself. Seungkwan just _moans_ , already leaning to rub his face on Hansol's cock, shameless and desperate. It falls on his face, resting on his cheekbones, heavy and warm and everything Seungkwan wanted.

"No, just for you," Seungkwan hurriedly says, like a reassurance. "Just for you, Hansollie."

"But you slept with him."

Hansol can't stop the bitterness that comes with his voice, and this time, he succumbs to the need to possess Seungkwan; under the stark lights in the elevator, his other hand moves to pump his leaking erection once, before holding it by the base and rubbing at Seungkwan's face with it it.

Seungkwan pants, eyes looking straight up at the concentration on Hansol's eyes, his own face smeared with precum. It's different - _everything_ is different with Hansol, and he feels like he's shocked with electricity again and again, aroused and desperate with every touch. Hansol's thumb pulls at the corner of his lips, and he instinctively opens it, tongue lolling out without thought.

"Pay attention to _me_ ," Hansol wheezes out, "Just _me,_ Boo. Can you do that?"

The quick and enthusiastic nods from Seungkwan that scream _yes, I'll be good_ just _get_ Hansol, and he is barely breathing properly when he rubs the head of his cock on Seungkwan's tongue, relishing on the way Seungkwan looks so fucking _thankful_.

Hansol can't stop the chuckle coming out of him, and he slides his cock into Seungkwan's mouth, burning the image in his mind: Seungkwan's lips stretching over his length, eyes wide and hands clutching on Hansol's sweatpants for purchase. He pushes through Seungkwan's gag reflex, panting as lips meet pelvis. 

He holds him there before pulling back, just enough for Seungkwan to breathe in, tears falling down his eyes. Hansol grits his teeth to stop an endearing laugh, but it comes out anyway when Seungkwan tries to take him in again, sucking loudly.

"Seems like Mingyu-hyung isn't as big if you can't take all of me without fucking crying, huh?"

Seungkwan moans on his length, and Hansol breaks, with nothing else but a quick " _I'm going to fuck your mouth_ " as a warning.

He takes Seungkwan's face in one hand, thumb stroking his cheekbones and giving him a sweet smile, before thrusting in.

The elevator moves, just as Hansol hunches over, one hand bracing himself on the elevator rail as Seungkwan is pushed back; Hansol's firm grip on his head is the only thing preventing his head from crashing into the mirrored wall. 

Nothing can compare to it, Seungkwan thinks, his last bit of coherence about to disappear. The cock hitting the back of his mouth feels _gratifying_ , precisely because it's _Hansol_. There's a certain desperation to be good, to do well, to prove himself to Hansol, and he falls into that pit, willing to do whatever Hansol asks of him, just like this.

The button for the third floor is blinking, and Hansol briefly pulls back and stops thrusting just to reach over and press the button for the first floor. Seungkwan taps at his thighs, mouth following his cock, and Hansol lets out a pleased moan.

"You're a _cockslut_ ," Hansol huffs out, both hands now on the rail, hovering over Seungkwan. "Suck me off, Boo. See if you can make me cum."

The words encourage Seungkwan, and he takes _all_ of Hansol in, throat burning and eyes watery. He's such a mess right now, Hansol thinks, eyes closing and a growl escaping his mouth as Seungkwan sucks in hard, throat clenching around him.

Seungkwan's giving him _such_ a messy blowjob, saliva dripping off his chin and pouty lips swollen red, but it's all Hansol has ever wanted: Just from _this_ , Seungkwan looks fucked out, eyes closed and mouth working on Hansol's length, all sorts of happy and desperate.

"That's it," Hansol groans out, hips thrusting involuntarily, and Seungkwan just takes it all in. One hand lets go of the rail, slipping down to clutch at Seungkwan's hair _hard_ , knuckles white just from the grip.

"That's it, _babe_ , you're doing so well. Can you swallow, hm? Can you swallow it all for me?"

Seungkwan - sweet, beautiful, all _his_ \- all but nods, and Hansol lets out a low moan and he thrusts in as far as he could, releasing amidst Seungkwan's gags, gasping when Seungkwan swallows around him, selfish and greedy.

The elevator dings open, and he pants and turns to look at who is waiting, eyes hazy; his vision is still readjusting, and Seungkwan is. Still on the floor, cock in his mouth, wholly unbothered.

Hansol gives a sheepish smile as he sees who is waiting for the elevator: Minghao gives him a disapproving stare, rolling his eyes and pressing the button to close the doors. 

The elevator doors close, and Hansol composes himself, slipping his cock out of Seungkwan's mouth. He pulls up his pants and crouches in front of Seungkwan, fixing his hair and wiping his mouth. His heart _flutters_ at the smile on his face, eyes closing shut as he lets Hansol fuss over him.

Hansol really, _really_ loves Boo Seungkwan, truly.

The elevator dings as they reach the first floor, and Hansol pulls Seungkwan up. Seungkwan is boneless, still out of it, so Hansol doesn't think twice and just princess-carries Seungkwan out of the elevator. 

"I can walk," Seungkwan whines out, finally coming back to his senses. He's flustered - hands covering his red face, as if he didn't just give Hansol the best blowjob he ever had. "Sollie, let me _down_."

"No," Hansol says, and he snickers and when Seungkwan wiggles around in defiance. What a _brat_.

 _His_ brat, though.

-

Seungkwan looks at his reflection in the mirror, trying to make sense of just what happened in the last few hours.

His throat feels raw - Jihoon is going to be _pissed_ , for sure. His lips look swollen, and his hair is disheveled. Hansol carried him to the bathroom when they got to the first floor, and handed him a make-up remover and cotton balls before exiting the room.

He takes a guess at what Hansol wants him to do, taking out a bunch of cotton balls and pouring the make-up remover into it. He starts at the base of his neck, rubbing off the concealer and foundation Jeonghan applied earlier at noon, grimacing as Mingyu's dark marks start appearing. He reaches back, further into his shoulder, and swipes the area.

Hansol reappears after a while, holding a towel and a change of clothes. He hangs the towel and puts the clothes safely on the shelf, before leaning over and fishing out some cotton balls. He pours the remover on it, too, and his hands gently move Seungkwan's chin, tilting his head so he can start rubbing off the remnants of the concealer.

Seungkwan drops his hands and studies Hansol's reflection. The lighting in the bathrooms at the dorm is dim, a tad bit too yellow, but Hansol is still so beautiful like this. His hair look run-through, but the dark brown locks still manage to fall on his eyebrows. He's focusing on cleaning Seungkwan up, eyelashes long and fluttering whenever he blinks, and his hands are gentle and lightweight, fingers holding Seungkwan like he's a treasure.

It's a strangely intimate scene, Seungkwan thinks, as he watches the last of his marks be revealed. Hansol throws away the dirty cotton balls, and stares back at Seungkwan, watching their reflections.

Hansol's hands pull down the borrowed cardigan, slowly and without breaking their eye contact. Mingyu's size is so much bigger than Seungkwan, and the cardigan gives easily as it passes down his shoulder, more of his skin being revealed as Hansol stares at him.

He stops. Then, a quiet voice.

"I love you."

Seungkwan breathes in sharply, eyes meeting Hansol's through the mirror, feeling the intensity of it.

"I know," Seungkwan says, hands fidgeting. "I love you, too." 

Hansol hums, like he knew it all along. He kisses the skin in front of Seungkwan's ear, right on his moles, before kissing behind and, slowly littering the skin with kisses and he moves down to his shoulder. Hansol _remembers_ where the marks are, inspecting all of them, keeping each and every one of them in mind. He pulls the cardigan even lower, his mouth making his own mark as he kisses Seungkwan's forearm, loud and wet.

Seungkwan sighs out, before blinking and gathering his courage, finally asking, "Are you my boyfriend now?"

Hansol looks up at him, surprised, before laughing giddily as the question sinks in. His arms wrap around Seungkwan's waist, pulling him closer. He has a huge, gummy grin that Seungkwan has _missed_ , so much.

"Do you want me to be?"

Seungkwan rolls his eyes. "I'm going to kill you if you don't become my boyfriend after all _that_."

"And I'll do the same," Hansol says, kissing Seungkwan's temple. "So, boyfriend? Yeah?"

 _Boyfriend_. It's so silly, how it makes Seungkwan all flustered and excited, giggling like a schoolgirl. 

"Yeah, boyfriend."

-

"You were insufferable."

The eighth floor's party fizzles out, with bodies passed out on the floor. Soonyoung at least managed to coax Chan into sleeping on the couch, and Seokmin opted to camp out on the floor with Seungcheol. Mingyu just pulled out the extra blankets and pillows, making their stay comfortable.

Jihoon arrives a little after midnight, making a face at the mess but stealing a soju bottle for himself, making a beeline for his room. Soonyoung retires to his own bed soon after, _almost_ not making it, and Joshua passes out in Jeonghan's room.

Only Mingyu and Jeonghan are left awake, and they're out at the mini-balcony that only the eighth floor has. They're tipsy, but not drunk, and Mingyu fidgets with his phone as they look out into the sky.

"You were insufferable," Jeonghan repeats, but continues on with, "Those two are probably together now."

"Mhm."

There's a mess within Mingyu that he is desperate to dissect. Sure, he was just pissing off Hansol because he found it enjoyable and he wanted to help Seungkwan - but a part of him wanted to flaunt Seungkwan, too. It's scary, this unknown, ugly part of him that's seemingly attached to Seungkwan in ways they already decided not to be.

He doesn't love Seungkwan. He _can't_ love Seungkwan.

" _Aish_ ," Jeonghan suddenly says. It's a warning tone. An _'are you kidding me?'_ tone. "Kim Mingyu, don't tell me."

"Don't tell you what?"

He winces at how guilty he sounds. He doesn't even need to say anything, because Jeonghan is already looking at him incredulously, eyes wide and mouth in a flabbergasted, faux grin.

"Don't say it," Mingyu warns. Jeonghan never listens, though. Not to him.

"Mingyu, you--"

"Don't, hyung."

" _You love him_."

Mingyu squeezes his eyes shut. Jeonghan laughs, though, and he looks at the older man, just a tad bit offended. Jeonghan waves a hand at him, and settles down, shaking his head.

"You love him, is that what you think?" 

Jeonghan's face schools itself into something more chilling and serious. It has always fascinated Mingyu how fast Jeonghan shifts, going through his emotions in lightning speed, but his thoughts composed and valuable. It's probably why Mingyu is still sitting here, talking to him. Probably why Mingyu can only ever talk to him about _this_ , other than Seungkwan.

"Do you love him, or are you just attached to your dynamics with him?" Jeonghan asks, pouring more soju into Mingyu's glass. "You don't love him. I don't think that's it, Gyu-ah."

 _I don't think so either,_ Mingyu wants to say. But he doesn't know how to finish that train of thought, so he replies, "Then what is it?"

Jeonghan leans back on his chair, right leg crossing over the other, clutching his glass like it helps him think.

"Kind of like an empty nest syndrome? You're so used to Kwannie, I think Vernonie pulling him away _so_ fast makes you feel empty and restless. You love him, but not like _that_ , Gyu. I think, just personally, that you are built for a different kind of connection."

Mingyu listens intently, just staring up at the sky. He finds comfort in not being alone to dissect his feelings, and there's something about Jeonghan taking him seriously and dismantling his frazzled thoughts that just _grounds_ him. He thinks of Seungkwan, and finds nothing but an odd calm of comfort, a lifesaver amidst a deep pool. He grew up with Seungkwan - a dongsaeng who is not really a dongsaeng, a one in a billion kind of friend. He kissed, fucked, cuddled, comforted - everything, he did with Seungkwan, and not once did the word _love_ feel fitting, to describe what he feels for him.

"You don't love him," Jeonghan murmurs, "Because you still love someone else, don't you?"

Mingyu thinks of Minghao.

He thinks of Minghao, who he drinks tea with, quietly spending time with. Thinks of how every slight touch from Minghao burns his skin, like an imprint. Thinks of their countless photos - Minghao's smile, all just for _Mingyu_ , when he takes a good picture of Minghao. There's the acceleration of the heartbeat, the tingling feeling, the hazy eyes. They dance, they drink wine, they listen to vinyl, and Mingyu thinks _I can spend my whole life with you like this._

A weight lifts, and Mingyu suddenly feels sober. There's a certain peace, then, that comes with understanding his own feelings, dismantling himself only to put it all back together again. Or try to.

"You're welcome," Jeonghan says, looking so satisfied with himself as he drinks his glass.

Mingyu doesn't reply. He doesn't have to.

-

Seungkwan's not in his room.

Of course he won't be. With the way Hansol pulled him earlier, it doesn't seem like Seungkwan will be in his room in a long while.

So Mingyu enters Seungkwan's room. It's nice. Clean. Simple. It still has the white sheets and the pale green curtains. Mingyu's hoodie on top of Seungkwan's chair, the table still littered with overly-organized pens and paper. His nerves relax, and he closes his eyes for a bit, recollecting his thoughts. The ghost of Seungkwan's comforting presence stays, even in an empty room.

 _I'm everything Myungho-hyung isn't_ , Seungkwan has told him, way before, when Mingyu first kissed him. _I'm never going to be him._

It was Mingyu who started it, now that Mingyu thinks about it. He saw Hansol and Minghao leaving the house for three days straight to eat somewhere and just walk. He saw Seungkwan looking a lot like a kicked puppy. He saw - himself. He pulled Seungkwan to the corner of the practice room, obstructed by the curtains, and. Mingyu doesn't remember the rest. He can't connect where _Seungkwan the best friend_ becomes _Seungkwan the proxy_. Seungkwan is the one who is good with change. Seungkwan adapts - a master in changing himself to please people, a trait that is both good and bad. Seungkwan, under Mingyu, turns into a lot of things: A best friend, a confidant, a lover.

Mingyu is just Mingyu. He doesn't adapt well, and if he can be stubborn about it, he _will_ be. _You can't always be like this_ , Seungkwan always says, after they sleep together. _You need to change, Mingyu._

 _Change_. He hates it. Hates that he has to adjust, hates that he's losing a safe place, with Hansol now clutching Seungkwan away from him. Hates that now he has to face the music. Hates that the natural habits of _Seungkwan and Mingyu_ will have to be _reinvented_. It's a low, pathetic feeling - loving Seungkwan, but not _Seungkwan_. Loving the Seungkwan that enables him to run away. Loving the vague feeling of Seungkwan buying him time, before he's ready to stop the silent dance he has with Minghao.

He doesn't love Seungkwan. It's both a drop and a rise, to realize this fully.

 _You need to grow up_ , a voice in his mind chides. Mingyu closes his eyes. It sounds a lot like Seungkwan. Briefly, he can see the image of Seungkwan that he built up in his mind, smiling proudly at him, all kinds of sweet and understanding, caressing his face.

He opens his eyes. He inhales. He exhales. He takes his hoodie, and one last look at Seungkwan's room.

It's nice. Clean. Simple. Even without traces of Mingyu.

 _You need to grow up_.

He turns off the lights and closes the door.

-

Seungkwan wakes up, and recognizes where he is.

It's not his room. Not if the dark curtains and desk full of papers and scraps is anything to go by. But it's a room he _knows_ , more than anything else. Hansol's cologne wraps around him, like it's trying to remind him, and he brings up a hand up to his mouth to stop the shy giggles from coming out.

Hansol loves him. It's nothing new. But Hansol _choosing_ him, being his boyfriend - _loving him enough_ for that, even if Seungkwan is just. Seungkwan. It's new. A welcome change, overdue but dizzying and refreshing anyway. Hansol is still asleep next to him, feeling and looking a lot like a dream, arm and leg slung over Seungkwan's body.

He quietly studies Hansol's face, breath quiet, as if any movement will wake him up. He knows Hansol, though - knows he won't wake up, but Seungkwan stays still anyway, a pointer finger gently tracing over his features. He has seen Hansol like this over the years, but something is different about the moment he's looking at right now, the dim sunlight giving him an easier time to look at his boyfriend's relaxed face. _Boyfriend,_ Seungkwan thinks, a wide smile on his lips as he takes in the long lashes, the strong eyebrows. Hansol's lips are chapped, face littered with tiny little remnants of freckles, his left eyebrow with a slight scar line. There's a story in all of this, in every part, every memory Seungkwan can talk about for years.

Hansol's shirt feels like it belongs on Seungkwan, even if both Hansol's preference for baggy clothes _and_ the size difference between the two of them is enough reason for it to be otherwise. He doesn't remember falling asleep, after showering; Just that him and Hansol talked about both nothing and everything, showing pictures of Sofia and Bookkeu to each other, recounting stories of the times they've spent without each other. It's a lot like a homecoming, warm and comforting.

He hasn't felt this at peace in a long time, simply looking at Hansol and melting into his hold.

Eventually, he slowly turns around, one hand holding onto Hansol's while the other reaches out for his phone, just underneath his pillow. The brightness momentarily blinds him, and he swiftly darkens the screen to see the time. 6 AM.

He reads through his notifications; There are some that are insignificant or not urgent - Jeonghan uploading images of the drunkards on the eighth floor, captioned with _Going Drunk_. He moves on to the next messages, making a mental note about those he isn't replying to yet, and he stops when he reaches Mingyu's message.

 _It's over._ **3:12**

**__** _You're happy with him, right?_ **3:12**

**__** _Kwan-ah?_ **3:14**

There's a time gap between that and the next message.

_I love you. Be happy._ **3:20**

There's a lot of nuance in that, too. But Seungkwan _knows_ Kim Mingyu. He knows what it means, and he feels himself tearing up at the implications of the messages. He's so emotional, so early, his feelings on a haywire, and he sniffs as he types out, _You'll be happy too._ He sends it, then, _Thank you._

He doesn't say _I love you_ , because he feels like they don't need that. Not right now.

The arm on his waist shifts, and Hansol's hand moves to pull him closer, chin on Seungkwan's shoulder. Seungkwan has nothing to hide - They talked about this, just last night, so he sighs in satisfaction as Hansol starts kissing up his neck.

"Morning," He greets, voice deep and raspy.

Seungkwan closes his phone, eyes closing as he hums. "Morning."

"You're up so early."

"It's just how I am."

Hansol laughs into his neck, warm breath fanning over the cold skin, and Seungkwan becomes aware of everything: The big hands resting on his waist, the warm lips and tongue mouthing on the skin of his neck, and the unavoidable fact that both of them are hard.

Hansol's hand slips underneath his shirt, palm light over his skin, before easily pulling the shirt off of him. A belated shyness hits Seungkwan as the cold air makes him feel more exposed than he has ever been, but Hansol just pulls him close, hands running up and down his body.

"He messaged you?"

"Mhm," Seungkwan nods, softly crying out at a sharp bite on his shoulder. What is Hansol _doing_? "It's like a congratulatory message."

"He said _I love you_ , though."

It's banter, Seungkwan knows. But there's also a little bit of heat in it, like Hansol still feels a little hostile over the thought, and Seungkwan accepts this Hansol, too. Yesterday, he said, _You don't have to change this part of you,_ when Hansol worriedly confessed about his feelings. Seungkwan means it.

"He did."

Hansol's touches suddenly feel a lot more urgent, his grip a lot harder. He rolls over, bed hair still sticking up but eyes sharp, and Seungkwan realizes what Hansol has been doing.

"You're so cute like this, Hansol," Seungkwan says, not being able to stop himself from softly laughing. "I love you."

Hansol scrunches his face in distaste at being called _cute_ when they're doing _this_ , but he leans down and plants a kiss on Seungkwan's lips.

"I love you too," He replies, kissing along Seungkwan's jaw. "But I'm a little irritated right now."

Seungkwan doesn't get to ask why - Hansol is fast to shift, continuing his mission of putting his own marks over the ones Mingyu left. His hands fit the curve of Seungkwan's waist, sliding up and tweaking Seungkwan's nipples just as he bites into a collarbone.

"Hansol," Seungkwan whines, "Hansol, _please_. I'm going to kill you if you don't stop teasing."

"Doubt that," He replies, cheeky, pulling back.

He sits up anyway, hooking his fingers into Seungkwan's waistband and pulling it down, Seungkwan lifting off his hips for the shorts to come off easier. It's -

Hansol stares.

Seungkwan is so, _so_ beautiful, sprawled out on his bed like this, coy and flushed. The marks on his skin are more Hansol's than Mingyu's, now; Seungkwan is everything Hansol has imagined and _more_. His thick thighs, his leaking dick, his pouting face, embarrassed but bare. Seungkwan is showing all of himself to Hansol, vulnerable and open and pliant.

"I love you," Hansol says, hands palming Seungkwan's thighs, leaning down to give a soft kiss on Seungkwan's stomach. "You're so beautiful, Boo."

"You're lying."

"Nuh-uh," Hansol stubbornly says, nipping at the soft skin, continuing to caress Seungkwan's thighs, before pushing them up, Seungkwan's knees bent as his hips lift off the bed. "My Seungkwan's pretty."

Seungkwan inhales, looking down with red cheeks as Hansol stares, like he's trying to commit how Seungkwan looks like right now to memory. He shyly holds the back of his knees, keeping it almost up to his chest, Hansol's hands moving to underneath his hips.

He doesn't get a warning as Hansol licks a long stripe, from his hole to his dick. He jerks at the sudden contact, inhaling sharply as Hansol sucks him off; There's embarrassment, watching Hansol's bed hair bob up and down between his thighs, but it brings a wave of arousal as he reaches down one hand, pulling at his hair.

" _Sollie_ ," He keens, when Hansol sharply sucks him in, feeling his dick twitch inside his mouth. "You're going to make me cum."

It's supposed to be a warning, but Hansol takes it as a challenge, and Seungkwan whines when Hansol starts sucking him off hard and _faster,_ hand letting go of his knee just to find purchase on the bedsheet, fingers desperately clutching at what they can just for purchase.

He _feels_ it - like a tide washing over him, and Hansol presses a thumb inside of Seungkwan just as he swallows around his length; He moans out loud as he cums, biting on his hand just to steel himself, eyes squeezing shut so hard that he sees stars.

He turns limp, chest heaving; He's barely back from his headspace when he could feel Hansol turning him around, his body just following and conforming to what Hansol wants.

The bed shifts; Hansol takes something out of the dresser next to the bed, before taking off his clothes. Seungkwan stays still in his position, oddly comfortable. His knees don't hurt against the soft bed, and his chest is pressed comfortably over a pillow. 

Hansol litters fleeting kisses over his shoulder, humming as their body presses against each other, front to back. They find comfort and love in each other's warmth, and Seungkwan - this is the safest he had felt, he thinks. Hansol is gentle in the right ways, rough where Seungkwan needs him to be. He kisses down the arc of Seungkwan's back, fingers pressing down his spine akin to an impromptu massage, and Seungkwan relaxes.

"I love you," Hansol whispers against his skin, like he's imprinting it on different parts of Seungkwan. He shudders, a soft and endearing smile forming on his lips as he turns his head to try and look down.

"I love you, too."

New and old marks and kisses, they're all Hansol's now, much like how Seungkwan as a whole is. Or maybe that's a lie, because Seungkwan has always been Hansol's. From the very beginning, it has always been him, and Seungkwan swears that even to whatever end it may be, it will always be Hansol, too.

Maybe that's why he feels more lightheaded, like he's floating in a dream. He slept with Mingyu - a lot, in different ways, but none of it made him ever _feel_. None of it even emotionally comes close to what he is going through, right now, heart in his throat and just about to burst with all the love he has for Hansol.

"I don't have a condom," Hansol groans out, his hands kneading Seungkwan's ass. There's an obvious edge and frustration in it that makes Seungkwan feel _so_ flattered despite the position they are in now.

"We don't have to use one," Seungkwan says, pursing his lips as Hansol glances at him. "Me and - _uh_ , Gyu, we never did it. Without one. I'm clean, is what I mean."

 _I'm clean_ is what the main subject of the conversation is, but there's also the obvious implication of ' _he never came inside of me'_. The obvious implication of ' _he was never in me bare'_. The obvious implication of ' _I wanted you to be the only one'._

Hansol stiffens, hands tight and looking just a _little_ but choked up. He has a lot of things that he wants to say, most of it just an assorted, jumbled mess of thoughts that all translates into _I love you_ , but he leans down, kissing Seungkwan's hips, forcing out a "Never say his name while we're in bed _ever_ again."

Seungkwan's laugh bubbles out of him, but it quickly turns into a gasp and a moan as Hansol spreads him out, thumbs keeping his cheeks apart. He lays his tongue flatly against it, dragging it up, so _teasingly_ slow that Seungkwan has to stop himself from pushing back. It's drawn out, Hansol's tongue slow and grinding, hands adjusting just for his thumbs to stroke over the sensitive skin, pressing in, but never _enough_.

"I hate you," Seungkwan grunts. He doesn't, because it feels good and it's fucking his head up, but still.

Hansol, and his stupid self-control. Hansol, and his stupid, cheeky grin; Seungkwan can't see it, too busy falling apart, but he _knows_ it's on his face - _feels_ it as Hansol finally pushes in his thumbs, spreading it and eating Seungkwan out like he's starved.

That's the point where Seungkwan loses himself, the pit that he usually jumps into. What he finds, instead, is the feeling of being free, light and _present._ He doesn't disassociate - doesn't fully lose his grip on himself the same way he used to, because being able to call out and moan Hansol's name while he's really, _truly_ is the one touching him is better than any fuck, or any adrenaline he could ever experience.

He's _aware_ , feeling and _real_ , as he bucks down his hips, pushing against Hansol's face. His voice _is_ his voice, and he feels absolution as he acknowledges the way he whines _Sollie_ without any hesitation. It spurs on Hansol, he knows, and it's a lot like Nirvana when Hansol pulls back, hand wiping his face and opening the bottle of lube, slathering an amount on his fingers before slowly sliding in two, causing Seungkwan to rise up on his elbows and cry out.

" _Good_ ," Seungkwan whines, pushing back against the fingers. "So good, Sollie."

Vernon leans over, kissing the back of his shoulder as he adds one more finger, groaning at the tightness as Seungkwan clenches down. He pulls back, rearranging Seungkwan to raise his ass higher. He coats his cock with more lube and slips it in between Seungkwan's thighs, before nudging at him to clamp his thighs against each other.

He starts fucking Seungkwan's thighs, timing it with his fingers, losing his self-control bit by bit. He thrusts in his fingers and spreads them slowly, grinning at the cry Seungkwan lets out. Admittedly, he had countless of dreams that played out exactly like _this_ , all of them with Seungkwan, but the fact that this is very real and Seungkwan is surrendering all of himself to Hansol just as Hansol does the same - it gets to Hansol's head, and he feels his coherence and sanity slipping away. Seeing the image of Seungkwan bent over like _this_ for him, his tiny hole being stretched open by his fingers, clamped thighs glistening with a mixture of lube, saliva, and precum as Hansol fucks it sore - It makes him feel lightheaded and feral.

"I can't wait to be inside of you," Hansol confesses, grinding his fingers in and gasping as Seungkwan clenches down, "I can't wait to feel you and cum inside of you, Boo."

It's a feeling close to being drunk, for both of them. The room is suddenly so unbearably hot, and Hansol can feel his sweat slipping down his back.

"I wanna," Seungkwan slurs, half of his face pressed into the pillow. He's reaching one hand back, grasping at Hansol's arm. "Wanna see you when you fuck me, Sollie."

Who the fuck is Hansol to deny him of that? Hansol slips out of Seungkwan and effortlessly flips him over, his senses stilling as he sees him in his full, flushed out glory.

 _His_ Seungkwan, red hair splayed over the pillow, forehead matted with sweat. He has the same face he wore in the elevator, but this makes Hansol feel even _softer,_ seeing the shy smile on his lips, so unabashedly in love with Hansol. His moles stand out like this, like constellations on skin, and.

Hansol is so, _so_ in love. Anything Seungkwan wants, he'll probably give.

"Hello," Seungkwan shyly says, giggling and covering his mouth.

"Hello."

Hansol laughs, taking his hands off his face, kissing his wrists. Seungkwan is small, blanketed by Hansol, and it surprises him when he manages to hold both of his wrists in just one hand, pinning it above his head. He kisses Seungkwan, tender and soft.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes."

Hansol slowly pushes him in and - It's hard to explain, the feeling of fulfillment. He takes his time, savoring the tightness around him, watching Seungkwan's face with hooded eyes. It sends a sharp jolt of arousal in his stomach as he thinks about how _he_ is the one who is making Seungkwan feel _this_ good, mouth open and eyes squeezed shut, hands clenched as Hansol pins him down.

He kisses Seungkwan along his jaw, up his temples, on his beauty marks - _You're taking me in so, well, Boo_ \- and when he _finally_ manages to bottom out, he lets go of Seungkwan's wrists and gathers him in his arms, pulling him tight.

Seungkwan mewls, arms wrapping around Hansol, feeling more complete than ever, full and satiated even just from _this._

"Move," Seungkwan breathes out, returning the favor of kissing Hansol as Hansol shifts, slowly dragging his cock out before pushing in, like a gentle ebb of waves on a shore. It gives them time to shower each other with a sweeter form of affection, growing bolder and much more confident.

"Seungkwan --" Hansol gasps, burying his head into the crook of Seungkwan's neck, lips mouthing at the skin. " _Shit_ , Seungkwan, can I? Boo, _please_ \--"

It's a new _discovery_ , to Seungkwan, seeing Hansol at the edge of his wits, borderline _incoherent_ , begging - He'd feel smug, but he doesn't have that luxury when he's in the same state.

"Can you what, Sollie?"

"Wanna fuck you," Hansol murmurs, voice low and arms tight around Seungkwan's body. "I wanna fuck you, Boo. Wanna make you mine."

The words Hansol are saying catch Seungkwan off-guard, clenching down as all he can do is say a small _yes, please_ , before Hansol lays him down, hands intertwining together above Seungkwan's head, eyes sharp and dark before he leans back and shifts a little, and starts _fucking_ into Seungkwan.

The scream that rips itself out from Seungkwan's throat is _obscene_ , unable to control his noises the way he used to be, toes curling in as Hansol pulls out all the way until only the head of his cock is inside, only to slam back in forcefully, _over and over_ , each thrust melting Seungkwan's mind as he thrashes around. He feels - _mindless,_ only half-aware of whatever gibberish he's saying, butfully focused on Hansol.

" _Haa,"_ Hansol breathes out a laugh that ends up as a moan, "You're so _pretty_ like this, babe, that it _really_ pisses me off that _he_ saw you like this."

Seungkwan whines, mind hazy and really fucking incoherent, his brain just on the verge of fully shutting down.

"Sorry, Sollie."

"Mhm, are you really?" Hansol pants, one hand holding Seungkwan's jaw. "I'm going to fucking ruin you, Boo, make sure you're all _just_ for me. That good?"

It's not a question, Seungkwan knows, even in his fucked out state, but he nods his head and puckers his lips; Hansol must've been satisfied with the response, because he leans down and gives Seungkwan the kiss he is asking for, hips driving in relentlessly.

Seungkwan gasps as Hansol grinds in, hitting a spot that just _feels different_ , mouth hanging open in a silent moan. Hansol grins and watches him, thumb pressing on his wet lips, before slipping in to coax out Seungkwan's tongue.

"Good?"

He coos, and Seungkwan nods, eyes looking straight into Hansol's, teary from the overstimulation. Hansol pulls at the corner of Seungkwan's mouth, keeping it open as he licks at him, before gently spitting into his mouth. Seungkwan's free hand flies to clutch at Hansol's shoulder, nails digging into the flesh, running down to Hansol's forearm.

He softens his hold on Seungkwan, his legs on his shoulders and hunching over and _almost_ folding him into half, cock driving in deeper and harder, now chasing his own release - Seungkwan sobs out, tears escaping his eyes as he feels his own climax nearing.

"Can you cum without me touching you?" Hansol grunts out, both hands now on the bed for purchase, panting heavily. He's close. _So_ close. "Will you be good, babe? Cum for me just like that?"

Seungkwan can only whimper, nodding his head, scratching down Hansol's back like it's going to make him more coherent. He pulls back his knees further, screaming Hansol's name as he hits his climax, verging on the edge of a blacking out. He clenches down on Hansol tightly, sobbing out.

" _Fuck,_ " Hansol whimpers, growing needier, curling further into Seungkwan. " _Fuck_ , you're so, so good for me, Boo, I'm going to cum -- I'm going to fill you up --"

He pushes as deep as he could, a loud, guttural groan coming out of him as he comes undone, eyes shut and everything else but Seungkwan a blur. He rides out the rest of his climax, slowly thrusting into the warm heat, all the while panting and rubbing his face against Seungkwan's.

Seungkwan is limp - feeling absolutely boneless, like he was taken apart and assembled all over again. _Euphoria_ is all he can use to describe his feeling, blanked out, breathing stabilizing as he feels himself slowly get off the high. 

Hansol pulls out carefully, taking out some wet wipes and cleaning Seungkwan up, throwing the wipes into the trashcan after. He came _so much_ that he's sure there's still more of his cum inside of Seungkwan, but that can wait. He cuddles up to him, feeling like a satiated cat, and Seungkwan holds him just as much.

"So," Hansol starts, before laughing. "I love you, what the fuck."

Seungkwan weakly punches him at the chest, but he laughs along, snuggling deeper into his embrace.

The feeling of shame never came, and Seungkwan breathes. For the first time, he feels whole. Feels _right_.

"I love you, too. I'd love you more if you massage my legs, though."

-

Minghao wakes up with a start.

Everything is a ritual, to Minghao, even if he doesn't force it. It comes naturally. And if it doesn't, then it's something he has to work hard on, and he's willing to exert effort where effort is necessary. He lies awake, on his bed, looking at his ceiling, and he wonders what to do.

Love, _actual_ love, is not a foreign feeling for him. He likes to think it's ingrained to him. He loves romance, loves the gentle silence of falling in love, the quick heartbeat that comes with dancing with someone you like. Minghao takes all of it and puts it in his heart.

But Mingyu. _Mingyu._

Minghao isn't stupid. He knows that something is going on between Mingyu and Seungkwan. He also knows it's not. _Serious_ , if he has to pick a word. _Loving_ , if he has to be honest. Only a dense man will think that Seungkwan isn't in love with Hansol, and only a stubborn man will think that Mingyu is in love with Seungkwan.

So. _Why_.

Why is Minghao so uncharacteristically nervous? Why is he using Hansol's comforting silence and relatableness as something like a door stopper? It feels like he knows the answer. It feels a lot like the answer is that he's not Seungkwan.

Minghao is everything Seungkwan isn't.

He doesn't want to be Seungkwan. He's perfectly fine. _But Seungkwan_. Seungkwan knows Mingyu. Knows his quirks, knows his quiet, knows the trail his thoughts follow without having to think about it too hard. Seungkwan gives love, generous and full, and Minghao gives love in portions. Gives it in little jars, flowers in empty wine bottles, keeping some for himself. 

He hears someone loudly playing Sam Kim's _Make-Up_ outside and checks his phone. He ignores his notifications, only looking at the time. 9 AM.

Early.

Not thinking too hard about it, he stands up and goes out of his room. He goes all the way out of the hallway, into the living, and pauses at his tracks when he sees a familiar figure in the third floor kitchen.

"Myungho-hyung. Good morning."

Seungkwan smiles shyly and waves at him. He _does_ look like an accident victim, Jeonghan was right. The very obvious love bites aren't covered up, and something in Minghao flares up, only to die down when he realizes that Seungkwan is wearing Hansol's hoodie, the gray material baggy on his form.

"Seungkwannie, hi."

There's still a little bit of a tension, and Minghao hates it, because he quite adores Seungkwan. He's cute, affectionate; A lot of times, they've bonded over each other's hobbies, and it endears him whenever Seungkwan tries out something he obviously doesn't like just so he can do it with Minghao. Seungkwan has the special ability of making people feel special.

The song ends, and it switches into something slower. Like a waltz. It's in English, and Minghao realizes that Seungkwan has been staring at him.

"What?" He asks, mouth suddenly dry with nervousness.

"Do you want to dance with me?"

Seungkwan puts down the chopsticks he is holding, and Minghao realizes that Seungkwan was pilfering food from their kitchen. Then he realizes he doesn't actually know what's happening.

"You don't know how to dance."

Seungkwan has the audacity to scoff, and Minghao can't help but laugh.

He whines and Minghao relents, because what Seungkwan wants, Seungkwan gets. Minghao decides to teach Seungkwan something easy, their palms against each other, stretching outwards and away. They step diagonally, one step forward and two steps back, like a dialogue. Seungkwan is strangely focused on this, and Minghao is reminded, at times like this, of how young they really are. He feels guilty.

"I have something to confess to you, hyung," Seungkwan says, not looking at him.

"If this is a love confession, I'm already sorry in advance."

"No!" Seungkwan laughs alongside Minghao. Minghao twirls him, just once, Seungkwan's spin hesitant and unsure because Minghao isn't Hansol. 

"You have to promise not to speak until I'm finished."

 _That's easy_ , Minghao thinks. "Sure."

Seungkwan studies him, and Minghao smiles at him. The way hyungs should, when they want to reassure their dongsaengs. He tries to emulate the smile Mingyu does, and he knows he failed but Seungkwan seems motivated anyway.

"I'm sorry," Seungkwan says, "About the comment. And about everything. I've always wanted to be like you, hyung, because I thought that if I could be like you, then maybe I can be the kind of person Hansol wants to be with."

Minghao did the ice bucket challenge once. It was harsh, like his skin was burning, but with the cold. It was a shock and it felt a lot like pushing up the surface, against a very hard pressure. This feels a lot like that, except it's _within_ him, the chill in his veins.

"I realized that that's dumb, though. I like being myself. And I love you. Even if you change, I'll still love you because you're my hyung. I'm sorry if I've been snappy and distant."

Seungkwan smiles at him, so blissfully unaware of how easily he toppled Minghao's remaining insecurity. _So easily eats it up_ , Minghao thinks, as Seungkwan says:

"And I think Mingyu would want you to stay as you are. Give him a chance, hyung. Don't tell him I told you, though."

The song ends, and Khalid's _Talk_ plays. It's so ridiculous, so _funny_ , and Seungkwan and Minghao seem to think the same, because they look at the phone playing the song, then at each other, before going into fits of giggles, bumping against each other.

"Thank you," Minghao says, breathing in after the laughing fit.

"For what?"

For giving me a push. For making me realize we're different. For telling me it's okay for things to change. For being Seungkwan. There's so many things he can say, so many reasons for a tiny _Thank you_ , because Seungkwan is. Seungkwan is good. Seungkwan isn't Minghao, and Minghao isn't Seungkwan. And that's fine.

It's 9 AM, though and that's a lot of things. A lot of things that Seungkwan probably knows already, judging with how he smiles at Minghao.

So Minghao just shakes his head and says, "Thanks for finally getting together with Vernonie. He won't have a reason to ruin my vibe now."

It prompts another laughing fit, and Minghao feels like he can do anything for the rest of the day.

-

"You hate me."

 _Of course_ Mingyu will meet Hansol in Seungkwan's room, his arms with a bunch of clothes he left that he is taking out of the room. He was doing _fine_. His hangover isn't harsh, but he is still sleepy; He normally wakes up so early, though, that it's like second nature to him anyway.

"No," Hansol answers flatly. Not really convincing.

Minghu sets down his folded clothes, and Hansol takes Seungkwan's powerbank and charger, before sitting down on the bed. _Okay_ , he thinks, _I guess we're talking._

"I don't hate you, I'm sorry," Hansol says, suddenly looking - sheepish? "I'm just honestly really irritated, but it's nothing personal."

This is the Hansol that Mingyu knows: shy, emotionally constipated. Hand covering his mouth as he looks away, unable to comprehend intense emotions. None of that weird aloof guy that he plays for the camera, none of that cold boy who stares Seungkwan down when Seungkwan tries to touch his cheek.

"It's okay if it's personal."

"Okay, yeah, I guess it _is_ personal."

"That's understandable."

Mingyu shifts. The awkwardness is bleeding out, and even if this is the weirdest thing to resolve, years of being friends in the same _group_ that lives together in the same place naturally teaches you how to resolve things. Sometimes you simply yell at each other until someone loses their voice. Sometimes you're just two boys in love with two other boys in two different ways, trying to connect the lines.

"Do you…" Hansol stops, looking a bit unsure, before continuing, "love him?"

Indeed, does he love Seungkwan?

Short answer: yes. Long answer: yes, with a lot of nuances. He already understands himself, and no one else needs to know it if Seungkwan understands it, too. He thinks of the times where they'll be late for school, Seungkwan being hungry and Mingyu being soft, and Mingyu thinks, who wouldn't love a relationship that's forged from that?

An understandable short answer: "I do, but not the way _you_ do."

Hansol studies him. When did Hansol grow up like this, Mingyu can only wonder. He's taller than Seungkwan, now. Broader. Stronger, able to hold him and calm him down. He's not a kid anymore; He's changed.

So many things changed. Mingyu wonders if _he_ changed too.

"I don't think anyone else will ever love him the way you do," Mingyu says. Hansol seems like he needs this - a reassurance. "And I don't think anyone other than you would do."

Hansol seems flustered now, and Mingyu snickers, cooing at how cute he is. He's still family, still someone he spent his youth with. So many times he had hugged him, comforted him, made jokes with and spent time with. There's a bond within them that can heal through anything if they just sort it out, and Mingyu treasures that more than anything.

"It's the same for me."

The unexpected confession makes Mingyu smile. Smile genuinely, a grin on his face. It's been so long, he thinks, since he felt _really_ happy for someone else.

"Come here," He stands up, arms open and Hansol must've been spending so much time with Seungkwan, really, because he doesn't hesitate to stand and walk to Mingyu, giving him a hug.

"I'm sorry," Mingyu finally says. Finally means it. "I'm sorry. Please take care of him."

"You're still our hyung. You _have_ to take care of us."

Mingyu gives out a laugh. "He takes care of us more than I do to both of you."

"Well, he won't be Seungkwan if he doesn't."

The fondness and love in Hansol's voice was so staggering, that Mingyu can feel the tears coming. He wills it down, though. There's a lot of relief flooding in, knowing that Seungkwan is happy. Will be happier. Probably the happiest.

When he lets go of Hansol, he lets go of Seungkwan too. He sees Hansol and - There's a playful annoyance deep inside him, now just purely out of being a friend who is about to witness excessive PDA again.

"Ah, damn," Mingyu laughs, "Now Seungkwan is going to be _really_ annoying."

-

Mingyu talks first.

“Let’s go outside today.”

Minghao pauses, hand hovering over the tray he’s preparing in the kitchen. Mingyu looks at him intently, like something is about to change in the next few seconds. Maybe there would be. On the couch, just outside, they hear Hansol and Seungkwan laugh at a video they’ve been giggling over for the past few hours. 

Minghao tries to hide his smile by fixing the pastry he prepared earlier. It’s fixed already, but he needs something to do.

“Where?”

“Anywhere.”

“How about somewhere around Samseong?”

“Okay.”

Mingyu grins like he won the lottery. He shuffles to just behind Minghao, and Minghao holds his breath for just a few seconds. Just a bit more, when Mingyu turns around and leans over Minghao, adding two more cups on the tray.

Then he exhales.

“Should we ask the lovebirds to come with?”

“No,” Mingyu murmurs, “just us.”

Minghao looks at him, and Mingyu looks back. Minghao still feels like he can do anything, and the noise from the living room drowns out as he focuses on this one, tiny moment that feels like it will bloom into something more tangible and coherent.

“Okay.”

They break apart, and go back into the living room. Mingyu holds the tray, and on it is bread and four cups and the porcelain teacup that Minghao values more than anything else. Seungkwan sweetly smiles at Minghao, and Minghao sits next to him, just as Mingyu sits next to Minghao. Mingyu pours all of them tea, and gives the very first one to Hansol as Seungkwan and Minghao talks about whatever new restaurant is good at Samseong.

“Be careful,” Mingyu says, “it’s hot.”


End file.
